Page 51 of Crown of Thorns
Never in all of my life have I considered ending my life and it’s not something that I would even muse about. But then again, Rhys doesn’t really know me as I don’t know him.
“‘Oh’ exactly.”
“I realize you don’t know this about me,” I begin. “As I’m learning I still don’t know much about you yet, but this isn’t something I would resort to. I’ve got a lot going on, sure, but I have before. My parents died when I was very young and sure, I was raised by great men I thought were my uncles. But turns out, they weren’t. My uncle, I’m not so sure I actually like—”
“Good eye,” he mutters.
“So, you see, I’ve had a lot happen before and ending things that way is not something I considered then and not something I would ever consider lightly, or at all. You don’t have to worry.”
“But I do, hen,” he says. When he breathes out,he looks like he lets go of a huge weight on his chest. “Come here.”
I start to move toward him when there’s a knock at the door and he sighs. “That will be supper,” he says before calling out, “You may enter.”
The door swings open and the maid comes in pushing a dinner cart with several covered dishes. Her cheeks blush as she looks at him and I hold in my own sigh of frustration. Something or someone will always keep Rhys and I from connecting if we let them.
She lays the dishes on the table before standing next to it with her hands folded in front of her. What is she going to do, feed him by hand? She probably would if he asked, and I hate that these thoughts fly through my brain. I don’t like being catty or petty and here I am thinking horrible things.
“That will be all,” he says, and she curtseys before heading out the door. Rhys turns to me as he stands from the sofa and motions me toward the small table. “Come on then, let’s eat. We can get to know each other more over a good meal.”
“I’d like that,” I reply as I let him pull out my chair for me and flick a napkin out over my lap. “Thank you.”
He nods as he takes his own seat next to me, not across, and begins uncovering dishes.
My mouth waters at the smell of the tender beef roast, and a bowl of mashed potatoes is revealed along with roasted vegetables and fluffy Yorkshire pudding.I watch as he loads up a huge plate and places it before himself before reaching over and pulling me from my chair into his lap.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“I changed my mind. I didn’t like you over there,” he says, settling me more comfortably across his lap. “This is much better.”
And then he proceeds to alternate between bites for himself and bites for me, mixing carrots and potatoes, dipping the Yorkshire pudding into the sauces. Something he would never do at a formal dinner, but he obviously enjoys in the privacy of his own space. And now he’s sharing that with me while he peppers me with questions ranging from my education to my childhood before and after my parents died.
Afterward, Rhys sets me on my feet and leads me to the sofa where my favorite blanket is laid over the arm.
“Rest,” he says quietly as he tucks me into the corner of the sofa. He kneels before the fireplace to start a fire in the hearth, then he stands and hands me the book I’ve been reading. “Don’t get too far ahead,” he says before he walks back to the table, stacking our dishes onto the kitchen cart and then wheeling it to the door.
“I could have helped do that,” I tell him quietly, embarrassed for not helping.
“Aye, I know, but I didn’t want you to.”
“Okay,” I reply as he opens the door to push the kitchen cart through to be collected by household staff.
Rhys comes back into the sitting room and closes the main door behind him, flipping the lock as he does.
My heart rate skyrockets at knowing the moratorium on sex is being lifted. I know I’m physically well but emotionally, I’m not so sure. I feel conflicted about everything. But one thing is clear as a bell, I’m attracted to Rhys and I want him.
He scoops me up and lays us down on the wide chase lounge that easily accommodates both of us. He lies behind me, brushing my hair from my shoulder and kissing the curve of my neck as he coasts his free hand up and down my side. He lifts the sweater from my body, leaving me in my lounge pants and tank top, exposing my lack of a bra. He scrapes the fabric covering my nipple with his fingernail and licks up the side of my neck.
I love it, but I’m still feeling unsettled.
He slides his hand down the front of my pants and instead of finding me wet and wanting, he realizes that I’m just not into it right now. Rhys rolls me to face him and looks at me, not in anger or upset, but tenderly. He traces my temple with a gentle fingertip.
“It’s okay,” he says to me. “If you need a little TLC tonight.”
And then he leans down and places a warm, wet kiss on my lips. I feel myself melting into him as he kisses me and then licks into my mouth. My body heats and begins to ache for him. Somehow, he knew the anxiety of being punished was getting to my head. Ineed to be loved gently tonight.
When he breaks our kiss, he rolls me to my back in the middle of the chaise and kisses his way down my body. He rolls each of my nipples into his mouth, one by one, making me arch into him for more, before he begins his way down my belly and over my mound. Rhys reaches for the hem of my pink pants and slowly rolls the soft cotton down my legs, exposing me, to the cool air and his heated gaze, before he throws my clothes somewhere behind him in the room. He lifts each of my legs, draping them over his shoulders before he presses his mouth to my core. All thoughts and doubts leave my head, at least for now.
He presses my thighs so wide that it’s almost painful as he places open mouthed kisses over my pussy, licking deep inside me over and over, driving me wild. I thrust my fingers into his hair, pulling tight and holding him to me as he eats me.
